


A view to behold

by StormXPadme



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, First Kiss, Giant Spiders, Healers, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mirkwood, Near Death Experiences, Spiders, Third Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormXPadme/pseuds/StormXPadme
Summary: Many years before the war, Aragorn and Legolas get caught up in a dire situation in Mirkwood. Aragorn ends up having to carry Legolas out of it. Legolas is thoroughly enjoying the view.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	A view to behold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/gifts).



> For AdmirableMonster (Mertiya).
> 
> Created out of a tumblr meme of writing prompts by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya); prompt: “I’m alive… I can tell because of the pain.” 

“I’m alive… I can tell because of the pain.” 

Trying to get fully orientated, Legolas blinked his sight free, only to realize he was staring right at a really excellent piece of mannish ass. Under different circumstances, a very tempting sight, but being hauled around like a sack of potatoes on a broad shoulder dampened his interest considerably.

“An idiot is what you are. _Keep still_.” Aragorn wrapped his arm only tighter around Legolas’ legs when he weakly tried to wriggle free from the embarrassing position. “I don’t have time for your stupid pride. We have to get out of here before the rest of the family shows up.”

Right. They’d wanted to torch a new spider’s nest, and Mommy had come home too early. Aragorn’s last morning in Mirkwood before his upcoming next journey to Rohan had turned out to be not half as peaceful as hoped. Which still didn’t explain the compromising position. Unless …

Legolas reached for his painfully throbbing side and frowned when his hand came back red and sticky. Oh. “Stop being dramatic. I’m fine.” He was not exactly sure if he was trying to calm Aragorn or himself, but given the conspicuous slur in his voice and how his vision was already swimming again, a brutal throb behind his forehead torturing him, not to speak of the violent shivers in his body, he’d probably been better at lying before.

“You’re bleeding out,” Aragorn answered flatly, similarly soberly to how he used to tell him that his father was a dick and that Legolas would get himself killed if he didn’t start training his close combat abilities, and Legolas knew better than to object. “So stop trying to be a hero. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”

”Next time I’ll watch her take your head off, alright?” Legolas tried to chuckle, but laughing hurt and laughing also ended with him coughing a gallon of blood on the coarse Ranger’s clothes his face was nestled into.

“Need to get you out of these rags”, he slurred. “Ada’s going to be pissed if you show up for breakfast like this.”

_Besides, I really want to know what your ass looks like naked._

He was _pretty_ sure he had _not_ said it out loud, but he was also pretty sure, he was running a fever, and it was getting colder by the second, and he already had to fight those annoying shadows in front of his eyes again. Oh, damn everything.

“Can we stop here? No spiders left.”

“We are not … What’s _wrong_ with you? Are you listening? I need to get you to the palace _right now_. I can’t patch you up out here.” There was a hinge of panic in the exaggerated annoyance in Aragorn’s voice, and that was far worse than the pain or the slight unease of what would happen next, where Legolas would wake up when he would close his eyes and if he would be alone.

At least while he still could, he didn’t want to be alone. “Estel. You need to put me down.” Somehow, he managed not to cough again, which was good, because half of his lungs would really have not been a good look on those damn leather pants.

“ _Why_? We’re almost there …”

“Because,” Legolas croaked patiently, “I’ll be dead in a minute or two, and as pretty as it is, I would rather look into your eyes and not at your behind when that happens.”

For a moment, the tension in Aragorn’s back and how his free hand turned to a fist looked as if he was about to flare up and voice more objections. But apparently, he’d listened anyway, because when Legolas managed to look up next, Aragorn was cowering over him, leaning down on the gushing waterfall that was his wound with a strength that would have crushed a Secondborn’s chest, with those beautiful grey eyes full of tears.  
“You need to stay with me, mellon. I can’t do this alone.“

“You already are.” Legolas blinked sluggishly and nestled into the cloak Aragorn had wrapped around him because he was still feeling so awfully cold. “Told you, I’ll go with you as far as I can. I guess this is the end of that line. Kick Sauron’s ass for me, will you?” A small moan escaped his lips when the pressure of another coarse bandage around the searing lava that his left side had turned into, took his breath away. At least he could see clearly again now, and there weren’t any more streams of red soaking through his clothes, soiling the mossy ground.

Grateful for both, he mustered up what energy he had left and closed his hand around Aragorn’s face, wiping the red and the grim from his messy beard. “You need to wash up before you go see ada. You know how much he hates …”  
Whatever else he could have thought of to mutter in the growing delirium of exhaustion slipped from his mind with the feeling of those beautiful full lips suddenly touching hiss, a shaky breath prickling on his heated skin, the pleasant tickle of hair where there should be none.

He was too busy staring at Aragorn for even a quip, completely dumbfounded when the man backed away, an askew but still somewhat amused grin on his lips.

“If I knew, that was the way to shut you up, I’d tried that much earlier.” For some reason, the despaired worry from just a few minutes ago had left Aragorn’s posture.

It was only when he vaguely waved north that Legolas understood, a patrol of his father had found them, and from the sound of it, they had horses.

Maybe they would make it back to the palace in time after all. And then there would be lots of _very_ interesting things to talk about. “You mean, I have to get stabbed every time I want you to do that?”

Aragorn didn’t have enough compassion with his lousy condition to not give him a light, admonishing slap on his thickly bandaged wound.

As it turned out, Aragorn didn't need to leave that urgently after all, not this time.

A few weeks later, on their next lonely night watch together, it _also_ turned out, that firm, round Dúnadan ass was indeed a sight to behold when it was covered by nothing by moonlight.


End file.
